


Weeping Willow

by catbee_3



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Derogatory Language, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Homophobic Language, Human AU, M/M, Seasons, Short, Short Chapters, Triggers, it's nice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 11:16:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 3,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6982471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catbee_3/pseuds/catbee_3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seasons move by slower than one might think.<br/>It's a sorta slice of life, a story from childhood to current.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not a japanese man w/ a history fetish, so I am not Hidekaz Himaruya. Thank god.  
> It's going to be easier if you hit entire work. Just a tip.

The rain slammed harshly against the window panes. The dark and empty hallways that had been vacant for far too long were only brought back to life though lightning flashes that faded all too fast. The sound of the storm echoed off the cold walls and the lusterless wallpaper in the nearly lifeless house. 

 

Drip. 

 

Drip. 

 

Drip. 

 

_ ‘A leak.’  _ He thought. 

 

Drip.

 

_ ‘I should do something.’ _

 

Drip.

 

Drip. 

 

_ ‘A bucket maybe?’ _

 

Drip.

 

_ ‘I should-’ _

 

Drip. 

 

But the man did not stir from his place on the dull couch. 

 

The house had once been beautiful. A lovely and vibrant yellow house on the hill next to the most beautiful willow tree. The man wondered where that house went.


	2. Spring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Childhood.

_ “Hey! That's not fair! You're taller!” The boy said angrily to his friend as he easily made his way up branches of the young willow. The boy tried to reach the branch above him but he couldn’t muster the strength to lift himself up to the next. _

 

_ “Grow long’r legs.” _

_ “That isn't funny, Berwald!” Tino said with a pout.  _

_ “C’mn. I’ll pull ya’ up.” He extended a hand down to the boy below him. Tino took his hand and easily climbed up to sit next to his friend on the branch and looked out to the landscape. _

_ The tree stood at the top of the hill, which gradually sunk lower the further out it went. The hill was covered with patches of trees. There wasn't enough to make it hard to walk through, but enough to make it a forest still. The willow was the only thing like it there. It wasn't as tall as the other trees but it was the most beautiful. It's branches hung down gracefully, each one decorated with the bright green leave and the trunk turned and tucked itself into what looked like a knot of a tree. The grass and dirt below was soft and grew spring flowers of all colors. It was amazing.   _

 

_ “I w’nt ta build a house up h’re when I'm older.” Berwald stated.  _

 

_ “That would be lovely wouldn’t it. We could live up here together!” Tino said, swinging his legs gingerly in the spring breeze. _

_ “Y’d want ta live w’th me?” _

_ “Of course! I love you.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess I should say that at this point they are like 7 and 8.


	3. Chapter 3

His stomach lurched at the memory. How long ago was that now? He couldn’t remember. His chest ached and he pulled the heavy quilt further over him so that it covered his head and held it closer to his body. He put his face into the quilt and inhaled, however the smell he craved had long since aired out. 

 

Drip. 

 

Drip. 

 

Drip. 

 

Drip. 


	4. Spring still.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Older.

_ “What about burgundy?” _

_ “Tino, y’ have no sense of color c’rdination.” Berwald chuckled.  _

_ “How rude!” Tino said offended.  _

_ “Pout all y’ w’nt I'm not lettin’ ya’ pick the colors.”  _

_ “You’re mean to me.” He said settling back into his chair. _

_ “What ab’t light yellow?” Berwald asked nonchalantly.  _

_ “Yeah- I like yellow.”  _

_ Berwald scribbled down a note on the house plan. _

_ “So when do we start building?” Tino asked looking at the intricately drawn plans.  _

_ “N’xt summer, maybe. Th’t way we’ll both be out of school.” _

_ “I can't wait.” Tino said, excitement carelessly seeping into his voice, “Your-” _

_ “Our.” he cut in. _

_ “Our house is going to be beautiful.” _


	5. Chapter 5

He begrudgingly sat up and looked for the source of the dripping, quilt still draped around his shoulders. He looked to his left and saw the source. The ceiling had began to leak allowing water to drop carelessly onto the floor. With a heavy sigh the man stood letting the quilt fall back onto the couch and began to the kitchen.


	6. Summer

_ He was so handsome in the summer sun, sweat soaked t-shirt clinging to his body beautifully. Tino couldn't help but stare at the man as he nailed the board to the support beam whistling softly as he did so.  _

_ Berwald had matured much more than he had over the years. He was only a year out of highschool and he already looked like a man. Tino, on the other hand, stopped growing in sophomore year. He still had a rounded face and a shorter and less muscular form. _

_ “Tino?” _

_ “Huh? What?” He said pulled out of thought.  _

_ “I said do ya w’nt ta eat lunch?” _

_ “Oh yes! Sorry! Guess I've been in the sun too long.” _

_ “Don’t ov’r heat. Get out of the sun if ya’ need ta.” _

_ “Yeah… Let's eat under the the willow.” _


	7. Chapter 7

He trudged down the depressing halls. 


	8. Summer is setting

_ It didn't take very long to end up where they were. Lunches carelessly placed aside. Short kisses grew more passionate within seconds. Tino picked himself up and placed himself onto Berwald’s lap, straddling him. Berwald held his hips firmly as Tino moved his own hands around his partner to pull him closer into the kiss. It was strong, heated... addictive. Enrapturing with heat and pleasure.  _

 

_ Eventually Tino pulled his lips from partner’s, their foreheads still together with thin lines of saliva connected between their mouths. _

_ Heavy breaths filled the silence and cool summer wind floated by comfortably, chilling heated skin. Tino pulled away completely and sat up straight. _

 

_ “They said they wouldn’t be comin’ back t’day, Tino.” Berwald said his voice low and tone soft as he held Tino’s hips tighter.  _

 

_ “I… I know… I'm sorry.” Their parents were very close. They thought of their children as brothers almost, which was probably the reason they didn't think much of them moving in together. Berwald’s parents, both skilled in architecture, had been there helping them a few hours prior.  _

 

_ “What if they come back, though?”  _

_ Berwald’s expression to the untrained eye might look stern or even angry, however, Tino could see the sadness that lurked.  _

 

_ “Jag önskar att det inte behövder vara så här.*” He muttered, but Tino did not understand. He continued, _

_ “Why are we wrong, Tino?” _

_ “... I don't know.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Jag önskar att det inte behövder vara så här.- I wish it need not be this way.


	9. Chapter 9

He walked into the kitchen. It was still a mess, dirty dishes placed carelessly around, fruit half eaten away by rot. Two rats walked lazily around without fear or care. They acted as if he wasn't there, even as he stepped over them.


	10. End of summer

_ “Finally.” Tino said exhaustion in his breath as he placed down the last box. _

 

_ “I'm done in here, Rakas.*” Tino called out, walking into the kitchen. He pulled himself to sit on the counter next to the stove, and looked down at the pan his partner was tending to. There were thin slices of sausage frying in sizzling butter, and in the pot on the adjacent burner water at a rumbling boil. “I think that's the last of it.” _

 

_ “That’s a relief.” _

_ “Mhm. What are you making?” _

_ “Falukorv med makaroner.*” _

_ “Sounds good.” He chirped happily.  _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Rakas- Beloved, Dearest, My Love  
> *Falukorv med makaroner- A Swedish dish of Macaroni, butter and sausage often served with ketchup.


	11. Chapter 11

He made his way to the sink and crouched down on his haunches. He opened the cabinet below it and pulled out a metal bucket. The bucket was once used to hold cleaning supplies but now just had a small bottle of unused dish soap, which he took out and placed back into the cabinet.


	12. Fall

_ It was Saturday evening in the cool Autumn. The door slammed heavily behind him as he walked into the pastel yellow house. _

_ “Tino? Are ya’ okay?” Berwald asked surprised, closing his book and setting it down on the coffee table. _

 

_ “Yes. Of course.” He said sharply. Berwald stood, “What happened?” _

 

_ With a heavy sigh Tino recounted his day at work. He and Berwald had been very careful about their relationship however people still made comments about two men living in the same house without a woman being weird or gross.  _

 

_ Tino worked as a writer for a local newspaper and while the people he talked to for his stories were most often nice enough, his colleagues were a vile sort of people.  _

 

_ Fag. Pillow biter. Pansy. Poof. Twink.  _

 

_ He hated it. He hated when he defended himself he had to deny the relationship. He had to say it was disgusting, he had to agree with them, he had to call himself disgusting and more so he had to call Berwald and everyone like them disgusting. His coworkers wouldn't believe him otherwise.  _

 

_ Once he finished his story of the day’s events Berwald didn't say anything, but just pulled him into his arms. This should comfort him but really all he could think about was guilt. He was such a hypocrite. He didn't deserve to be comforted.  _

 

_ “One o' these days people w’ll change their minds.” He pushed Tino’s bangs to the side and pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead. “Don’t let it get to ya’, Älskling.*” _

_ Tino let out a sigh and smiled sadly, “You're right.” _

_ “I got somethin’ to cheer ya’ up.” _

_ “Oh?” He said with a soft chuckle. “What's that?” _

_ “F’llow me.” He said, taking Tino’s hand gently and walking into the kitchen. _

_ “Y’know, the house is 7 y’rs old t’day. Thought it was ‘bout time we exp’nded it.” _

_ “What?” Tino said in surprise as Berwald opened the back door and lead him outside onto the porch.  _

 

_ Tino’s eyes immediately fell to the small dog house that sat on the grass under the willow tree’s orange branches, and then to the the red leash attached to the house. He followed that around the corner of the house and to the small white puffball of a dog jumping through the piles of red and orange leaves.  _

_ Tino looked back to Berwald like a child on Christmas Day, “You got a puppy?!” He said with the largest grin. Berwald was never the best with words, so he just nodded, a slight smile curving his lips as he crossed his arms.  _

 

_ “Oh my god!” Tino said dropping to his knees and picking up the puppy.  _

_ “I can't believe-” His eyes were watering up as the little white dog stayed happily in his arms, wagging its tail violently, and its tongue peaked out of his mouth. _

 

_ “Wha- What's his name?” Tino said wiping his eyes.  _

_ “Up ta’ ya’. Don’t name ‘im anythin’ too bad though.” _

 

_ Tino let out a soft laugh, he had a point. Though their childhood when they would name animals they saw he always came up with the worst names.  _

 

_ “Hanatamango?” The dog looked up when he spoke. (Purely by coincidence.) “See! He likes it!” _

 

_ “Min Gud…*” Berwald said shaking his head. ‘He's ridiculous…’ He thought as he looked at the man brought to tears by a puppy, his pale blond locks sweeping in the wind. ‘Beautifully ridiculous.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Älskling- Darling, Sweetheart, Truelove, Honey  
> *Min Gud…- My God...


	13. Chapter 13

He stood up from the crouching position and placed the bucket on the counter, and grabbed a dish towel nearby and threw it into the bucket. His eyes fell to the willow that now stood barren and dead in the rain. He didn't like thinking about it. Thinking about how happy he was, or what he used to sound like, or what he would do, or the day he didn't come home, or the impossible months of waiting, or the police report.


	14. Falling

_ “Tino Väinämöinen?” _

_ “Yes, sir?” _

_ “We regret to inform you that your house mate, Berwald Oxenstierna, was found dead this morning. We suspect foul play is at work, but no word yet on the perpetrator.” _

_ The man kept talking, rambling on about how the investigation would go, how Tino would come in to give his statements. _


	15. Chapter 15

The world felt like it came to a stop when had gotten that call. 

Frozen in time and space.


	16. Winter

_ “You and he were…” the man trailed off waiting for him to finish his statement.  _

_ He knew what he wanted to say, he wanted to say they were housemates, that they were platonic, brotherly even. He wanted to say this because he worried that if he said the truth that they wouldn't care as much. That he'd never find out anything more. But he didn't have the energy anymore. He couldn't convince himself to lie anymore. _

 

_ “Partners.” He finished. His voice dead and drowned of emotion. He stared blankly at his hands on the table as he picked away at the chipping surface. He didn't want to look up and see the look of disgust.  _

 

_ The man was quiet for a short amount of time followed by the scratching of pen on paper. When he did speak again his voice didn't sound like anything. It sounded like a recording. It held no bias or emotion. This was comforting in a sense.  _

_ “Was there tension in the relationship?” The man let out a sigh and continued to drone on, “fighting, financial instability, betrayal, so on and so forth.”  _

_ “No.” _

_ “How long had you been in the relationship?” _

_ “We lived together for 9 years.” _

_ “And the relationship?” _

_ “I…” They never had an anniversary or anything because there was no specific day things started. He didn't know how to answer. _

_ “I don't know.” _

_ “How long did you know the victim?” _

_ “19 years.”  _

_ “Were you public about this relationship?” _

_ “No.” _

_ “Mr. Väinämöinen. Do you know of anyone who disliked or would try to harm Mr. Oxenstierna?” _

 

_ No. He didn't. He didn't know a lot of the people Berwald worked with. He had worked as a teacher at the high school, but he only rarely talked about his coworkers, though he would sometimes talk about his students, but he didn't remember any of their names. He always spoke fondly of everyone. He loved his job.  _

_ “No.” _


	17. Chapter 17

But the days kept going, no matter how frozen it seemed or how he willed them to turn back


	18. Winter

_ The funeral was confusing whenever he tried to remember it. Some things blurred to the point where it was impossible to sort the real detail and the dreamlike envisionments of what took place. Other parts were excruciatingly belabored. Like the coffin. Tino could still see it, it was a thick dark blue casket with golden metal work, of course it wasn’t real gold though but it was still nice. The corners of the coffin faded into a darker, almost black, blue and the lights of the church were yellow and ugly and reflected off the coffin in an unflattering way. The funeral didn’t have an open casket, the body was too far broken and decayed for the morticians to sew up and fill with preservatives. He was glad for this. He didn’t want to see the lifeless body of his former lover, he didn’t want to remember him like that. The church stunk of holy water, a smell that he swore sunk into his clothes and stayed for months later. _

 

_ After the burial, he didn’t leave even as everyone else did, or as the workers filled the grave, or as the cold winds swept the graveyard. He just stayed and sat in front of the tombstone. There were a few people who trickled in through the night, a pair of students who were in his class at the time, a friend of his, some co workers. They didn’t say anything he remembered. _

 

_ In the morning when he left he felt like he was leaving him behind. Betraying him. The color drained out of the world as he walked back to the house on the hill. _


	19. Chapter 19

The days would never turn back.


	20. Winter

_ The snow crunched under his boots as he walked to the empty house. No one was there. Berwald’s parents had taken Hanatamango when Berwald had gone missing. Right to do so, he barely remembered to take care of himself for the few months Berwald was filed missing. The poor thing would’ve died before they found Berwald. _

 

_ He got the call two months later. The men who killed Berwald were taken into custody. They had been students of his who had graduated. They were young, around 20 when they drugged him and beat him until death.  _

 

_ They confessed to everything, proudly. They made sure to express what outrage they felt when they found out they had been taught by a faggot. How they thought he was disgusting. How he was a pervert and shouldn't be around children. How he deserved it. It was filed as a hate crime. _

 

_ Their stories about how they had apparently found out about the relationship changed though the course of the trial, and so there was no way to tell how this was brought on.  _

 

_ Tino lost his job when the whole story was exposed.  _

 

_ That didn't matter. After that the outside world and he became detached, like when you're underwater and everything around you doesn't make sense. He didn't quite take things into account anymore. He didn't really think.  _

_ He didn’t think when Berwald’s parents found out about their relationship, or when his did.  _

_ He didn't think when he was cleaning out his desk.  _

_ He didn't think when his old coworkers teased him.  _

 

_ Or when the worse of the group decided it appropriate to slam his head into the desk and force him to listen to him when he said how he agreed with the men who killed him, how they should have finished the job. He didn't fight.  _

 

_ Everything was detached in his mind. Berwald was dead, and in the end, all he had to blame was himself. After all, Berwald was a great man, if Tino had never come along he’d be alive. Maybe he’d have a wife, maybe he’d have children. Maybe they’d be living in the pastel yellow house on the hill and Berwald would still have his job as a teacher and he would be happy. It was really all his fault. _


	21. Chapter 21

If everything he had been taught as a child, about faith in God’s plan was true, he wondered why God had chosen to make his story read so sad. He wondered why God would set someone down a path that was against what was right. He had never really believed in God or religion but a childhood of religious teachings seeped into one’s thoughts sometimes. He wondered if there really was a heaven, and he wondered if there was would he go there when he died? Would he see Berwald at the golden gates? A sad smile formed on his lips, it’s true what they say, you do eventually run of of tears to shed.


	22. It's cold

_ The first few months had been the hardest. He still saw him walking the house sometimes, he still responded when he heard his voice. The house had lost all vibrancy. The colors were faded and the rooms were smaller. He only barely kept the house, Berwald’s parents had fought for its custody but because when Berwald had done the paperwork for the house, he had put Tino’s name as the owner and so their attempts fell flat. Tino was surprised to find out he had a will, though it was like him. He planned ahead for everything. He had left money in his name, which had allowed him to keep the house running while he sought out a new job.  _


	23. Nowadays

He pulled himself out of the trance, picked up the bucket, and went back to the leak. He took the towel and wiped the water up then placed the bucket to catch the water. He sat back down at the couch and watched as the water dropped slowly into the bucket. Listened as the clinks of water to metal turned to the sound of water hitting water.  
He sighed.

He’d have work in the morning so he slept.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey hey! Leave a comment if you'd like, cause I mean I want, but like i can't force you to do much.


End file.
